Of Myths And Monsters
by Red Zeppelin
Summary: Many men are destined for greatness; precious few are destined for glory. Me? Glory is the name of my game. Gods and Legends walk among us, but only the glorious few can pull them out of the shadows. It ain't easy, but someone's got to do it. I am that man. I am that someone. This is how I proved the existence of a Legend to mere mortals.
1. Prologue: A Chance Encounter

**Celadon City**

 **April 2** **nd** **, 1001 A.P. (After Pokemon)**

The bar was a small, downtrodden place by the looks of it. Not seedy, but not fancy either. It was not a place for tourist's to grab a drink.

The man, however, was no tourist. His body, draped in a trench coat and face shadowed by the lid of a hat, stood underneath the street corner's lone lamp, looking at a picture of his target.

As he figured, the person in the picture matched the person sitting at the bar. Like a seviper on the prowl, he fixated his attention towards his target.

Whereas the springtime rains would deter others from moving out and about in the city, the man felt excitement rise in the cold drops.

He was a man on a mission.

He was a man on the hunt.

He moved forth, towards his prey.

* * *

Yes, my name is Luke Tilin.

Yes, I do mind that you sit there. Do I know you?

I don't know you, but you know of me? Well, that sure makes me feel at ease. That was sarcasm, by the way.

A journalist you say?

Oh.

 _Oh._

You know, I was told in explicit terms to never tell that story, but I'm sure you know the deal with keeping secrets, and how they eat away at you. Well, I'm sure you don't, given your profession and all, but for me, oh man is it hard. I'm like an electrode with too much juice; I just want to explode!

I figured you must have tracked me for a long time, huh? I admire your resolve. It reminds of, well, me! I like that, I can tell I'm going to like you, mister journalist. So, let us make a deal: I tell you my story, I spill my secrets, and you'll get your story. That's what you came to me for, right? My only cost is that you sit here, drink with me, and listen to the whole story. You'll find your answers.

But first - Bartender! Two coffees with a shot of sambuca, each. Of course the Viridian kind, everyone knows the Cinnabarean is tauros crap.

If it's gonna be a long night, I might as well have some fun with it, you know? Fun fact, my mother was from Viridian. Father was from Cherrygrove, but he never really lived there outside of his childhood. He was too much of a wild spirit, my mother used to say.

My father was a merc, you see. He was one of those guys with the big-ass rifles guarding the caravans along the Routes. As such, he never really stayed in one place, always moving around. More importantly, he _hated_ pokemon. Like, he wouldn't even sit in the same room as a Gods-damned eevee. To him, the only good pokemon was a dead pokemon.

When father saved enough money, he moved my mother to Celadon where I was born. Yep, I was born and raised right here. Well, not right here, obviously. Sixth ward, which is the lower-east side if you didn't know. Not poor, definitely not rich. Solidly middle-class, I'd say.

Now, I bet you're wondering how someone with an upbringing like mine could make the greatest discovery the pokemon world has ever seen. And that would be a fair question. The answer lies with the help of one man: Elisia 'The Slowpoke' Mannington.

I see that look on your face. Surely I don't need to tell who he is right? You don't? You need to read up on your Kanto history, son. The man's a legend in the region and in Celadon, and is a personal hero of mine. He helped make me the man I am more than my father ever did. A four-starred contender at the Indigo Plateau, the only reason he didn't win the championship was because Giovanni was that much better of a trainer.

Elisia was a goofy, aloof man. His opponents nicknamed him 'The Slowpoke' thinking it was some sort of insult. In typical Elisia fashion, he turned that against them and wore the name like a badge of honor.

I was nine when I first saw Elisia battle. It wasn't an ordinary match, either; some hotshot trainer from Sinnoh thought he could test his mettle on the Kanto circuit. He had already stomped his way through Winston in Vermilion and Koga in Fuchsia, and Elisia was up next. All my friends had gotten tickets for the match, so of course I wanted to go. But, remember my parents' aversion to pokemon? Yeah, they wouldn't let me go. Naturally, I did the only thing a kid my age would do and that is steal cash from mother's purse and go to the battle anyway. Yeah, I know, I was a shitty kid.

I met up with my friends, and we made our way to the stadium. It wasn't hard to find, considering that the stadium was, and still is, a giant greenhouse in the middle of the fifth ward. The inside was packed and nearly bursting at the seams. Yeah, the battle was that popular. You have to remember that The Slowpoke battled with real style, a mix of cautious awareness of the battlefield and lightning quick aggression when necessary. Not whatever Erika calls poke-battling these days.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

The crowd hushed in an instant.

"OUR CHALLENGER HAILS FROM VEILSTONE, SINNOH. YOU MIGHT REMEMBER HIM FROM HIS ELECTRIFYING BATTLE AGAINST LEADER KOGA!"

A young man stepped onto the raised podium. Cheers rippled throughout the crowd, not out of support for this trainer, but rather of mere politeness. The trainer's steely blue eyes, magnified a hundred times on the jumbotron, remained cold and unflinching. It was a sense of determination that I would not understand until I was a trainer.

The crowd rumbled as a second trainer appeared.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR THE PRIDE AND JOY OF THIS CITY, CELADON'S VERY OWN GYM LEADER –"

The crowd exploded into cheers as Elisia's mild face appeared on the screen. He was wearing his signature attire: a navy blue, collared coat with the number ten emblazoned in white letters along the shoulders.

"ELISIA MMMMMAAAAANNNNINGTOOON!"

"BEGIN!"

The bell rang, and red lights flashed on both sides of the field. The challenger released a hardy probopass that floated lazily in the air. Elisia copied in kind with a carnivine, which immediately slithered into the thick grasses that coated much of the field.

Now, any experienced poke-battler would tell you that this round was instantly not in Elisia's favor. Carnivine were strong, but not strong enough to crack probopass's steely exterior. But, making such an assumption would fall into Elisia's trap.

The probopass peppered the field with electric shocks, at times indiscriminately. The carnivine weaved through the grasses, opting for guerrilla warfare rather than a full-on assault. The vined pokemon would pop out for a quick strike, and flee back into the grass before the probopass could counter.

Minutes passed with more of the same. It was not exciting, but it was technically sound. The challenger clearly grew enraged with his pokemon's inability to land a hit. After another ten minutes or so, luck fell the challenger's way. The carnivine leaped for a quick strike, but landed in a gravelly section of the arena. Wasting no time, the steel-type countered with a thundershock.

"ELISIA HAS SIGNALLED FOR A RECALL!"

The white signal came almost immediately. The crowd chattered in confusion. While the carnivine was outmatched physically, it could surely withstand a single thundershock. Therein lies the genius of The Slowpoke. Carnivine was never intended to take on a probopass, that's simply ridiculous. It was used to scout out the opponent, the trainer, and from there, Elisia could plan a strategy.

And that was why Elisia embraced his nickname. Behind his aloof demeanor was a cool, calculating mind that caught opponents off guard.

"WHAT POKEMON WILL ELISIA CHOOSE NOW?"

A pokeball exploded into red light, growing immensely in size.

"IT'S RONALDO! HIS CHAMPION –"

The announcer didn't have time to finish his sentence, as the chesnaught roared across the field, heading directly for the probopass. Panicking, the steel-type fired off thundershocks, only to bounce off harmlessly against chesnaught's earthy shell. The two pokemon collided, and the crowd roared. This was real poke-battling, two pokemon just beating the ever-loving shit out of each other. That crap that Koga and Erika try to pull off? Pussy-shit. Poke-battling is about strength and strategy, not cheap poisons that can end a pokemon's career.

You can keep that on the record, by the way.

The chesnaught absolutely destroyed the probopass. It tried to counter, but the grass-type was too bulky. The white signal flared from the challenger's box, and the injured probopass disappeared in a red light. The challenger wasted no time in sending out his next pokemon, a beefy emboar that greeted the arena with a roar.

I'll spare the details of the rest of the battle. To keep it short, Elisia won, obviously, and the challenger left running with his tail between his legs. That was the first poke-battle I ever saw in person, and it was an awesome. But, my curiosity wasn't quenched. Not yet. Remember, I was not a good kid at that age. I did not interpret rules as rules, rather seeing them as blockades to be bypassed. After the battle, my friends went to leave, and I told them I'd see them later. I had some exploring to do.

I slipped through a door marked 'Celadon Gym Employees Only' amidst the mass exodus of spectators, and made my way through a sterile hallway with cheap fluorescent lighting. The gym employees must have been cleaning up the arena or something because there was not a soul in sight. Doors marked 'Custodial Supplies' and Men's Locker Room' passed me by. A room titled 'Pokemon Utilities' piqued my interest, but it turned out to be nothing more than a storage room for medicines and fertilizers. Dejected, I had all but given up hope until I came across an unmarked door.

With cautious curiosity, I slipped my head past the door. This hallway had expensive Fuschsian carperting – I only knew that because my mother had purchased the same style of carpet for our house – and decent lighting. Silently closing the door behind, I crept along the carpeting. The hallway turned left into an office, and my heart began fluttering. Elegantly carved bookshelves and desks lined the walls. This was, without a doubt, Elisia's office. Then, that meant…

I looked around the room until a found a door that matched the teal coloring of the walls. Bingo. Heart flutters turned to thunderous drumbeats, and I opened the door to an amazing room full of trees and plants. A secret section of Celadon Gym: Elisia's famous private garden.

To say that I was in awe was an understatement. _No one_ stepped into the garden, not even the press. I was one of maybe a handful to ever see the garden in person.

I was amazed almost to a fault. Beyond the vibrant colors of petals and leaves, and the aromatic odors they released, I failed to notice the presence lurking within. I was looking at a particularly interesting plant – one with large yellow petals decorated with red splotches – when a blue vine slithered up my leg and swung me into the air. Too sudden to even scream, I resigned myself to a quick gasp of air as I twisted upside down.

Then, silence. Precious seconds passed that left me hanging, staring into the abyss of plants.

A rumble echoed throughout the garden, and the wall of vines before me twisted and swarmed in inhuman ways, revealing a pair of beady eyes. I am in no way ashamed to admit that I had now thoroughly pissed my pants.

The tangrowth eyed me with curiosity. Of course, nine-year old me had no clue as to what the beast was thinking. It could have crushed my puny existence in seconds, had it chosen. But, perhaps it viewed me as a toy, or maybe it was just in a docile mood. A thought had occurred as I hung upside down. As far as I had known, Elisia only had one tangrowth. Could this be the infamous –

"Koloss." Elisia emerged from behind some plants. He looked at the pokemon, then at me, then back to the tangrowth. "Let him down."

The tangrowth dropped me unceremoniously, and I quickly scrambled to my feet, failing to stutter out an apology or whatever the hell I was thinking at that moment.

Elisia waited with the mild patience he was known for, his face unchanging amidst my rambling. "You shouldn't be here," he said after a moment. His voice held no anger; he only made a simple observation.

I glanced between Elisia and his tangrowth. These were not mere mortals that I stood amongst; these were legends, the best of the best among their craft. I believe I went into enough detail to explain Elisia's fame, but Koloss, his tangrowth, is the reason for his success.

Standing at about ten feet tall, Koloss destroyed the bell-curve in every aspect for his species. If the chesnaught from earlier was his tank, then Koloss was his ace. Don't believe me? When you're done with this, log into the Internet, enter the phrase 'The Showdown at the Summit'. If you can't get access to an Internet café or something, just watch some late-night television. They usually show reruns of the battle on some channels.

Yes, any pokemon that can single handedly ruin an Elite Four member and earn its trainer leadership in the gym circuit is worthy of admiration and fear. It truly is a travesty that upon Lance's rise to the Champion's Throne, he decided to replace Elisia with that hack, Erika. What, you think her vileplume can withstand the full force of a pissed off tangrowth? Lies. Lies and slander. Erika isn't even worthy of kissing his bootstraps.

Anyways, Elisia kneeled down to my trembling body, and placed a soft hand on my shoulder. "What is your name, child?" I answered. "Well, Luke, you have nothing to fear. You are in no trouble. In fact, your curiosity is admirable." He flashed a rare smile. "But, your trespassing is illegal; I suggest you refrain from doing that as much as you can."

I laughed at the joke, and then we talked. I told him about the issues I faced with my father, about his aversion to pokemon, and how much I loved his battle. And, more importantly, he listened.

I remember, clear as day, the words he spoke to me before I left: "You are a curious young man. Never let that leave you. Curiosity helps us grow, curiosity is what made humans control pokemon. Don't let friends or family ever stop you from being curious."

I took that to heart. I left after that, walking with a hop in my step all the way home. I believe there was also a squish in my step, you know, due to my piss-soaked pants. It was the best day of my young life.

Four months later was the worst day of my young life, and possibly to this date. That was the day a snorlax, recently waking up from its endless slumber, rampaged its way to Celadon and through the walls surrounding the sixth ward. Nothing survived in its wake. My father died trying to combat the beast, and my mother died a few days later, succumbing to her wounds.

At the time, I didn't think it, but now I realized how lucky I was. I was not in the sixth ward when the snorlax struck. I was in the fourth, playing with my friends.

Now, let me be clear: that snorlax did not kill my father. No, it was hubris that killed him. Simply put, this is still a pokemon world that we live in. Our lives are defined by pokemon, given meaning by pokemon, and taken away by pokemon. Anyone that says anything else is flat out wrong.

My father was killed because he could not adapt to these facts. Guns and knives can't kill snorlax. But you know what could? A pokemon. And yet, my father refused to believe that fact, and it killed him.

The next month or so were difficult. I had no immediate family to reach out to, and all my friends seemingly disappeared from my life in the wake of the attack. At ten years old, I was left to stealing and pickpocketing to get by.

I was pocketing the cash from a convenience store register one early morning when Elisia walked through the front door flanked by two Celadon Gym trainers. He didn't say a word, but the disappointment etched across his face told me everything. Naturally, I was too shocked to speak, but I do recall that he remembered me from the garden.

After a moment, Elisia uttered a single order, and the gym trainers flanked my sides, hooked my arms, and dragged me off.

I was pulled after Elisia, past the shopping mall, past the police department, and straight through the doors of Celadon Gym. After scouring the labyrinthine hallways, we finally ended up in a classroom of sorts filled with people young and old. The gym trainers tossed me in a seat and I found myself face to face with Elisia.

He handed me a notebook and pen. "Pay attention," he added.

And then, I learned. And when I turned sixteen, Elisia awarded me my first pokemon: a tangela, one of Koloss's spawns. After that, I became a trainer. I got four badges in five years – nothing spectacular, but fairly impressive nonetheless.

What? You want me to tell you about my pokemon team? Well – urgh. Maybe at a later time.

I retired from pokemon training after failing to get my fifth badge. Be patient, I will tell you more about that later. Everything has relevance in my story.

I applied to Saffron University with the money I made from poke-battling, and I graduated with a dual-degree in pokemon physiology and archaeology, and a minor in religion. I wrote my master's thesis on the spread of mythology across the various regions in the Pacific Ocean.

It did not go unnoticed. Blaine must have read my thesis because he offered to hire me almost immediately after I graduated. I'm sure you've heard how he's a mythology nut? Yeah, totally true.

I worked for Blaine for five years, and then I met Antonio Giovanni. Yes, _that_ Antonio Giovanni. Former Champion of the Indigo Plateau, Antonio Giovanni. Current Gym Leader of Viridian, Antonio Giovanni.

He came to me with a job and prospects. How could I say no?

I see that look in your eyes. Some might call it impatience, but I like to think of it as unfiltered curiosity. That's good. But you have to remember: every story has its beginnings. You can't just plant a stalk and expect it to grow. No, you need to feed the seeds first, let it absorb all those nutrients. _Then_ , the stalk can grow.

That's what I'm doing here; I'm feeding the seeds. It's not what you want to hear, but it's important nonetheless.

Because this isn't any ordinary story.

No, this is the story about I – the person sitting before you – made the greatest discovery the pokemon world has ever seen.

This is the story about how I irrefutably proved the existence of Mew.

…

Bartender! A round of the Veilstone whisky, neat please! A dash of bitters in each, if you will. It's going to be a long night.

* * *

Four-Starred Contender – A trainer that has beaten all four Elite Four members. Only four-starred contenders are eligible to compete for the championship. As such, a three-starred contender has defeated three Elite Four members, and so on.

Wards – Most cities in the Kanto Region are divided into wards. Celadon City, for example, is divided into six wards. The first and second ward houses the financial district, and is where the famous Celadon Mall is located. The third ward is upper class homes. The fourth has parks and restaurants. The fifth holds the Celadon Gym. The Sixth is residential for middle and lower class; the damages from the snorlax attack still remain evident to this day.

The White Signal – The equivalent to 'raising the white flag'. In league-certified poke-battling arenas, the white signal denotes the end of the round, meaning that that trainer's pokemon is no longer eligible to battle.

Cinnabarean Sambuca – Most sambuca is made with anise seeds and elderberries. The Cinnabareans, for some un-Godsly reason, triple-distill the initial mix. To combat the acetone taste, liquorice extract is added. After failing to sell the sambuca outside of Cinnabar, they tried a new marketing campaign that turned viral: "It might not taste good, it might not even be sambuca, but it'll get you drunk as fuck."

* * *

Tangrowth (#465 International); The Vine Pokemon, clustervines, vine beast

Characteristics: Grass-Type; ~6'7"/~283.5 lbs.; bipedal

Evolution: Tangela (pre-evolution); feed-based evolution (this pokemon only evolves by consuming quality food of vast quantities; as such, it is rare to find in the wild)

Diet: Nitrogen and carbon found in soil; it feeds through its root-like feet

Range: Warm, humid climates with mild winters; Southern Kanto, Southern Johto, The Sevii Islands, Orange Islands, Coastal areas of Hoenn, and the Great Marsh region of Sinnoh

Description: The tangrowth and its pre-evolution, tangela, are made entirely of vines. Poke-biologists classify these vines into Type A and Type B. Type A vines are the clusters of blue, thorny vines that are iconic to the species. These nerveless vines are purely defensive and, if the need arises, offensive in nature, and can be severed, burned, or detached without causing harm to the tangrowth. Type B vines consists of the tangrowth's nervous and root systems. Characterized by gnarled knots of hardened wood, the only visible portion is the root-like feet as the rest of the body is hidden behind Type A vines.

"Ahh, tangrowth. Truly an exceptional specimen of plant pokemon. What most people don't know is that the Type A vines grow as quickly as its roots can feed. So, starve it, keep it hungry for a few days before battle, and when you send it out, you have a hungry, angry pokemon that can double in size as the battle rages. That's how I beat Oren; he wasted too much time, and allowed Koloss to absorb the field's nutrients. By the time he realized what had happened, he couldn't close the distance, and his thunder attacks couldn't get through the vines. Getting crushed was his only option."

– Elisia Mannington, his thoughts and insights after 'The Showdown at the Summit'

* * *

A/N: This story started out as an idea I had. It seemed interesting, so I ran with it. I did take some inspiration from other pokemon fanfiction, but what you are reading right now is from entirely my own ideas.


	2. Chapter 1: The Powers That Be

**~Chapter One~**

 **~The Powers That Be~**

Mew, the mother of pokemon.

Myth chasers, they called us. Loonies, crazies, and once from a particularly nasty asshole, batshit insane. But, you've seen the reports, you've followed the trail, and I ask you: who's the asshole now?

Not me, that's for sure.

Let me be clear: when I started researching the Mew, I did not actually believe the thing existed either. I figured it was a fable, a legend passed down from generation to generation. Hell, the expedition was never even supposed to be about proving the existence of the Mew! But, just as illumise are drawn to the moonlight, I was drawn to the thrill of the hunt.

My story can start from many places. It can start in Kanto, where I poured hours upon hours on old texts and history books. It can start in the Orange Islands, where I first met Blaine, and where I was first introduced to the politics of myth hunting. It can start in the Sevii Islands, where I crawled through ancient ruins in the midst of civil war.

No, I have to start my story in Alola. Looking back upon this grand adventure, I realized that it had to be Alola. Have you ever been? No? You'd have to see it to truly understand my fascination. It is a land of contradictions. Young, yet ancient in the same breathe. A land where the arcane slumbers just beneath the surface. Slight, yet palpable. It is the land of my grand revelation and my rebirth.

Yes, looking back, it had to be Alola. There could be no other place.

As I mentioned before, a story is like a seed: it must grow before you reap the fruits of its lesson. And that means it must take time to develop.

My Alolan story starts in the city of Heahea…

* * *

Tuesday, February 12th, 998 A.P.

Heahea City, Akala Island

I capped my pen and closed my notebook for now. I'm sure Blaine might find the entry on tangrowth interesting. He might even pass it along to the Pokemon Professor.

I smiled, washing away the thought. Old man Oak had no need for my notes, what with the crap modern pokedexes were capable of these days. But, it was nice to think of myself as that important. Besides, I viewed it more as a side project, something to work on during down time. Creating a directory of Alolan customs and pokemon might be a worthy side project, one that could reap some dough back in Kanto.

Clearing the rest of the clutter off my desk – crumpled notes, cigarette butts, books on Alola – revealed a map of Akala Island, crisscrossed with various notes and scribbles. I frowned at the mess, grumbling in frustration. I was a damned good researcher, but none of the books I read or the people I asked could or would tell me a lick about Alolan culture and history. Everything was surface level; this happened, then this happened, followed by this. In other words, useless information.

The only information I could divine was of some ruins in the mountains. Apparently is used to be a place of pokemon sacrifice for the Ancient Alolans, but that didn't mean there couldn't be something useful in regards to the Mew. I leaned back in my chair, tussling my hair. That also didn't mean that there would be anything of relevance, either. Ah, such was the nature of archaeology.

A shuffling from behind broke my reverie, and I turned to see my partner slowly awaken from his sleep. Messy blonde hair shined in the morning sunlight. He was young, having just graduated from Cinnabar College. Smart, quick-witted, but in truth, not someone I wanted for this expedition. His father had some connection with Blaine, who sent over his resume and cover letter to Giovanni. Good grades and had a trainer's license, but no gym badges. That was a problem, I had told Blaine, I needed someone who had been a trainer, who had experience in the wilderness.

But, it was not to be. This kid, Mikey, had the best resume of those that applied, and he had connections. He was going to be my partner, whether I liked it or not. At least he had primeape, although I had no clue if it could fight.

With a yawn and a stretch, Mikey blearily looked around the room. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty," I said, suddenly feeling the effects of lack of sleep.

Groaning, he moved about, presumably finding his clothes strewn about the room. On the other hand, I gathered a wad of Alolan dollars – dala's, I believed the natives called them – and casually threw it on to Mikey's bed.

He stared at it like a lost child. "What is this?"

"Money."

"No shit, what's it for?"

"It's a little grease money," I said, refocusing on the map. "Go to the docks, I thought I saw some guys hanging around a pickup truck."

Something I said must have confused him because he still looked at me like there was a ghost. I groaned, rubbing my sore eyes. I was too damned tired to work with newbies. "It's a little grease money," I repeated, not hiding the irritation in my voice. "Listen, the site is about five miles inland with a five thousand foot vertical. You can walk that if you like, but I ain't."

"So, we're bribing them," he said slowly.

"Gods dammit, kid! We're paying for a service! We pay them money; they let us drive their truck up the mountain! What don't you understand about that?"

With that, he shut up, finally. Good. I wouldn't have had to deal with any damn newbies had Giovanni put an ounce of consideration into what I wanted in a partner, but _no,_ apparently the man in _charge of the expedition_ doesn't get a say in such matters.

I waved away my frustration, remembering my promise to Blaine that I would keep my temper in check around the kid. Not that I had a temper, but apparently it was enough of an issue for something to be said. Besides, there were more important issues to deal with, namely the Kantonese ambassador that Giovanni decided I should meet. He could supposedly open a direct line of conversation to the Alolan elites, which in theory would help us with the expedition.

I wasn't so sure. Yes, communication could get us far, but what if the Alolans didn't play along? If the lack of information in my books indicated anything, then the Alolans kept their friends close and their secrets closer. They seemed highly unlikely to part with anything. But, as far as I knew, the Mew didn't play a large role – if any – in Alolan mythology, so perhaps they would help.

There wasn't a choice in the matter. Giovanni dictated that I meet with the ambassador, and I wasn't about to disobey him. I stood up, snatching my two pokeballs and hooking them to the magnetic strips along my belt.

"I'm heading out," I said, turning to Mikey. "I don't need to explain what you need to do again, right?"

"Yeah, go to the docks, find some guys with a pickup."

"Good." I glanced at my wristwatch. "Meet back here at five o'clock to discuss the plan for tomorrow."

* * *

Heahea was not what I would call a quaint city. In fact, I wouldn't even call it a city in the same way that I would call Celadon a city. Nestled between the mountains to the east and the ocean to the west, Heahea spread itself wide as a series of shanties. What it lacked in height, it made up in width. There was no center, no agora, or anything of the sort, just whatever was decided to be built that day. Mud buildings line streets littered with people, pokemon, and, well, litter.

Heahea was a city of smells. Large fishing operations were centered near the coast, and ore mining stayed more to the east. Unlike Kanto, large corporate conglomerates hadn't yet devoured the local businesses like a hungry snorlax. I couldn't walk a damn foot without being hustled by some street vendor trying to sell me the daily catch. No, I would say, I'm not hungry. No, I don't want your food. Fuck off, your wishwashi smells like ass.

It was certainly colorful, to put it kindly. Due to the low-lying nature of the city, nothing noteworthy could be spotted, making it incredibly difficult to navigate. And for some reason, the Kantonese ambassador expected me to find a random coffee shop in the southeastern corner of the city. Hell, I could be in the northeastern corner and I wouldn't even notice the difference. Rather, direction was indicated by smell. The western area generally smelled like sun-rotted fish, while the eastern area carried an earthier odor. Armed with this knowledge, I figured I could somewhat navigate my way through the city.

The air began to smell of moldy dirt, so I figured I must be somewhere near the right area. Eventually, I came across an intersection with a coffee shop at one of the corners. A short, unassuming gray-haired man sat at one of the stalls outside. Thick-rimmed glasses graced his face, and a goatee covered what would have been an impressive double chin.

"Hiroshi-san," I said, an exaggerated smile plastered across my face. "Enjoying the Alolan weather?"

The man looked up from his coffee and extended a hand towards an empty chair. "Tilin-san, have a seat. Enjoy the sunshine with me."

The ambassador bore the typical Japanese features: olive skin and slanted eyes. If I recalled correctly, Hiroshi was the son of a well-connected Fuchsian plantation owner, and had no doubt rode his father's coattails up the Indigo political ladder. Not that I could blame him; many criticized the Japanese lobby of rampant nepotism, but I thought of them as whiners and losers. The Japanese simply took advantage of their connections, and were successful because of it. Nepotism? Of course. Shady politics? Sure was. But, then again, anyone would do the same in their position.

That was not to say that I trusted him. Hiroshi was a politician, through and through, and I would have to tread lightly.

"Coffee, Tilin-san?" He seemed to have mastered the art of Japanese faux-politeness, too.

I nodded an affirmative, salivating at the caffeinated liquids. We made idle small talk. More importantly, Alolan coffee was as good as advertised: black as coal and bitter, but with a sweet aftertaste.

"I'm curious about the nature of this expedition," Hiroshi said after a particularly boring segment of conversation.

I stared blankly, before realizing the question was directed towards me. "It's nothing grand," I said with a smile and a shrug. "Just a simple archaeological dig. We want to comb the local ruins of the ancient Alolans for anything relating to the Mew. Paintings, murals, sculptures. That sorta stuff."

"May I assume this is related to your previous two research papers?" I nodded. "Fascinating." He sounded anything but. "I had heard your last paper brought you to the Sevii Islands. That was quite brave of you to go during war."

"Ah, I was in no danger." Shrugging, I brushed off the compliment. This was not my first time dealing with politicians – working closely with Blaine afforded me many opportunities – so I knew when I was being hustled, and Hiroshi was hustling me to the nth degree. I half-wondered if he would lean over and start jerking my cock, but I brushed away the thought. The Japanese were too couth for such actions; they had whores for that stuff. But, I knew for a fact that he wanted something from me, and whether he achieved it through force or subtlety was yet to be seen.

We finished our coffee, and Hiroshi ushered that I follow him. Gravel turned to dirt, and dirt turned to stone as we left the shanty city of Heahea and made our way up the mountain rising above. A pathway cobbled with stone and marked with tikis resembling the island deity twisted up the mountain. Lele, I recalled, was the deity that was said to inhabit Akala.

The trip wasn't long, lasting no more than half an hour, and was occupied with more of the same idle chitchat. At the end of our hike stood a large structure made out of the same mud and timber as the buildings in Heahea, albeit with a more decorative facade. It didn't necessarily rise out of the mountain, as it seemed to be a part of the mountain. Raucous noises echoed from inside, followed by a loud boom, and then all went silent.

"The Kahuna Olivia is facing a trial-goer as we speak," Hiroshi ushered me to follow him, which I obliged. We passed underneath a wooden arch. Sentries and Lele tikis decorated the courtyard. "The Kahuna are considered the spiritual leaders of the Alolans. They wield a great amount of power within religious and political circles. Tread lightly around Olivia."

We walked underneath mud-bricked arch and into the arena, which matched its exterior with benches made of timber and rocky outcrops dotting the field. A youngish trainer no older than Mikey with a topknot haircut and a poor excuse for a beard stood at one end of the arena. A black lizard stood on its haunches, acrid smoke drizzling from its fanged maw, occasionally glancing back towards its trainer. I had him pegged as the trial-goer.

But, he did not draw the spectators' attention. Their focus lay at the other end of the arena. A brown-skinned woman sat atop what could best be described as a throne, one arm crossed across her chest, the other massaging her chin. She gazed upon the arena with the intensity of an experienced pokebattler. I noticed a strange, stony gargoyle sitting to her right, but I brushed it off as merely decorative.

The crowd collectively held its breath as Olivia retrieved a pokeball from some hidden portion of her body. The ball flew with a snap of her wrist, releasing a blue, craggy pokemon onto the field. Gigalith.

"Unusual," Hiroshi muttered.

"What is?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about the nature of pokemon and how little we know." He lifted a pudgy finger towards the gigalith, which had just engaged the lizard. "Take this one, for example: it is clearly a rock-type, yet beyond that, I know nothing. And I would be willing to bet that very few people here know anything more about this pokemon. Isn't that most curious? How little we know?"

The facts flew off my tongue like a jolteon on x-speed: "Slow, but durable as all hell. It lives mostly in mountainous regions, but it vastly prefers the underground so as to avoid rain. Its favorability in pokebattling lay in its ability to tank hits. It isn't much of an offensive pokemon, although some gigalith can utilize solar beams."

"Okay, but what of its opponent? What can you divine of the lizard?"

At that moment, the lizard spewed gouts of flames. "It's a fire-type," I noted dryly.

Hiroshi laughed a rich, baritone noise. "It appears your knowledge of pokemon is only matched by your wit, Tilin-san. But, I suppose that is to be expected of someone who has studied pokebiology. Knowledge – and the pursuit of knowledge – is innate to those like you. Is that what drives you to study the Mew?"

"I never figured you as a philosophizing type."

"I'm no philosophizer, I'm just good at studying a person's behavior. Speaking of which, I noticed you avoided answering my question of the Mew."

I glanced sideways towards the ambassador. "The Mew is merely an interest of mine."

"Forgive me, but I find it hard to believe that someone who has written two theses on the spread of the Mew mythology throughout the Great Ocean, one of which required an expedition to the Sevii Islands, to consider the Mew a mere interest."

"Would you rather I call it an obsession?" My brows furrowed as I struggled to reign in my frustration. Did Hiroshi seriously just call me a liar over something so miniscule? Relax, I told myself. I breathed deeply, forcing myself to calm down. This certainly was not the first time I had been questioned about my expeditions concerning the Mew. But hearing it from a high-leveled Indigo politician was particularly unnerving. "Forgive _me,_ Hiroshi-san, but I fail to see where you are going with this."

"Nowhere in particular," he muttered, and he turned back to the battle.

The challenger had returned his lizard after a particularly brutal tackle from the gigalith. In textbook form, he responded with a golduck, which started using its psychic powers to throw rocks about the arena.

"To be honest with you, we have some concerns about this expedition of yours." Hiroshi said.

"Who's we?"

"The Indigo Plateau. Champion Lance specifically."

"Why? It's scientific in nature, we're not trying to pull anything here."

Hiroshi removed his glasses, wiping them down with a cloth he procured from some hidden pocket on his jacket. "It isn't you per se that we are worried about, it's your employer. Tell me: what do you know of Team Rocket?"

I thought back to the countless commercials I had seen of them in Kanto. "Aren't they a charity organization?"

"So they say, but the internal revenue arm of The League is having difficulty conducting a proper audit."

"Well, mister ambassador, allow me to assuage some of your concerns," I said with the most insincere smile I could muster. "I have no dealings with Team Rocket. I am privately contracted by Leader Giovanni, and only Leader Giovanni."

"Again, our concerns lay solely with Leader Giovanni, not with you. His behavior since losing the championship to Lance has been – erratic, to put it mildly. We're just combing through every channel possible to learn more about this Team Rocket."

"If you have no issues with me, then why do you think I know anything about Leader Giovanni's problems? In fact, why even bother me about this at all?"

"You don't find it strange that a Gym Leader directly asks an ambassador to help with interest project of his?"

"Uh, not really?"

"Well, I do. And so does The League. Gym Leaders only have authority over domestic issues, not foreign ones. By coming directly to me with a favor, Leader Giovanni committed an act that was highly unorthodox and – some might say – illegal."

"By that logic, isn't it also illegal of you to accept Leader Giovanni's proposition?" That seemed to silence the ambassador. I grimaced, squirming where I stood. "Look, I know nothing about Team Rocket. I can't help you there. I get paid to research the Mew, not discuss the ethics of my employer's actions."

"So be it," Hiroshi said after a sigh.

I exhaled a long-held breath I didn't know I had. My previous suspicions weren't wrong, but misguided; Hiroshi didn't want something from me, as I was almost positive the whole thing with Team Rocket was just posturing. No, he was giving me a warning. I was being watched by The League, and I needed to watch my step.

So much for a simple expedition.

The battle had raged on during our conversation. In the hopes of clearing my mind, as it was currently racing at a thousand thoughts a minute, I returned my focus to it. The golduck had made short work of the gigalith, as was expected, and a lull overcame the arena. Spectators awaited in deathly silence, even the challenger seemed stricken to the ground he stood upon, not daring to move an inch. All eyes lay on Olivia.

In a show of theatrics, she stood up slowly and barked an order in her native tongue. The ground shook and the crowd roared and my eyes bulged as the statue sitting beside Olivia took off from its perch and shrieked a horrible war cry. It was readily apparent that the statue was no statue, but a _pokemon_ _ **.**_

There were two ways to react at that moment. The first was mild, perhaps a meager breath might escape my lips. That was not enough. The second option – and the option my body forced upon me – was the sensation of looming terror as a dragon's roar shook me to my bones. A sensation of screaming danger shrieked in the back of my mind as the aerodactyl flew around the arena. The bluish-purple flames of dragon's breath licked the maw of the great beast.

The challenger quickly recalled his golduck. A smart move. While the water-type technically held the type advantage, one errant beam of dragon's breath would leave it a smoldering carcass. With a flash of red light, a skarmory shrieked onto the field. Now the tide had turned in the challenger's favor. His skarmory held the type advantage, and the aerodactyl's dragon's breath couldn't burn hot enough to melt the bird's steel armor.

Orders were barked and the flying-types raced towards each other. The aerodactyl moved in swift, graceful arcs, spamming beams of dragon's breath at every opportunity. But the skarmory was too bulky, tanking the hits with the natural toughness of the species. In one particularly tense moment, the skarmory held a higher position than the aerodactyl. The Fossil Pokemon tried to maneuver around the steel-type, but it was met with ironclad feathers at every turn. It screeched deafeningly as long gashes raked its hide. It was losing the position for air superiority, and all hope seemed lost for Olivia.

I couldn't tell if what happened next was a good, but ballsy strategy, or stupidity with a healthy dose of luck. Ordering a pokemon to charge head first into another pokemon, especially if that other pokemon was a steel-type, was always a bad idea. But that was exactly what Olivia did. And, after a moment's thought, its simplicity was beautiful: her pokemon couldn't go around the opponent, so she opted to go through it.

With jaws aflame with dragon's breath, the aerdactyl charged its opponent with terrifying speed. The crunching of rock smashing against steel echoed across the mountainside, leaving both pokemon floating dizzily in the air. But the aerodactyl recovered faster, and with frightening agility, twisted its body and clamped its mouth shut around the skarmory's neck. Steel-type or not, no pokemon could withstand the crushing power of an aerodactyl's jaw. The skarmory shook like a rag doll, incapable of mounting a counterattack.

But the aerodactyl wasn't done. Maneuvering its wings, it dove at a downward angle, colliding with the ground and shooting dust into the air.

An eerie silence swept over the arena. Mere seconds felt like minutes. Then, booming cheers, and some cries of dismay, erupted as the aerodactyl rose above the cloud of dust, standing tall with wings agape. The Fossil Pokemon cawed its victory over the battered corpse of the skarmory. The challenger froze to his spot, face ashen at the sight, and then turned and ran out of the arena.

"Disturbing," Hiroshi said, not sounding the least bit disturbed. "But such is the unforgiving nature of battle."

"Hiroshi-san," I said slowly, "about our conversation earlier: does Leader Giovanni know about The League's suspicions about him?"

"He does not," he answered with a tone that warned me not to press the subject. "Follow me. You wanted to meet the Kahuna, no?"

* * *

Smoke rose from the center of the tent, which stood some ways away from the arena. The tent was nothing special. Leathery hide was draped across wooden scaffolding that dug into the ground. Two guards stood beside the entrance flaps, each clothed with intricately woven purple and black wool. I surmised that they were meant to represent Lele.

But, it wasn't the smell or the smoke or the guards that drew my attention. Voices could be heard within the tent, loud and argumentative. I glanced curiously at Hiroshi, who returned it with his own doubtful look. Briefly, I considered turning tail and coming back at a more opportune time. Surely the Kahuna would not appreciate intrusion during an argument.

But, no. I didn't come all this way to be scared off. I gave Hiroshi a knowing nod, and he retrieved some sort of badge from his pocket. The guards remained motionless for a moment, and then opened the tent door for us. The inside was bare, save for a table and some chairs. None were in use, however. The inhabitants were standing, faces red and eyes cross. There was an argument.

Or, there had been an argument. The tent was now silent, and everyone's attention was redirected towards us, the intruders. I recognized Olivia, and by the Gods, she was gorgeous in person. Dark skin and darker hair was framed by a slender, but muscular body. Amber eyes bore holes in my forehead. The man standing next to her was tall and imposing. He had the same skin tone and eye color as Olivia, but his hair shone a fierce maroon red.

Across the table stood a shorter, stouter woman. Her hair was dyed a navy blue, and one of her legs was ostensibly replaced with a wooden peg leg. A noise drew my attention to the right where I saw a lone girl sitting. Her hair looked almost green with the grasses braided into it. Cloudy grey eyes looked up at me.

I did not fail to notice the pokeballs hanging off each person's belt.

Silence. Everyone was staring at me. "Uh, how's it going?" I said meekly. A sharp jab from Hiroshi suggested my comment was unwarranted.

"Forgive my friend," he interjected, staring icily at me. "He is unused to Alolan customs."

Olivia waited a moment, allowing the pregnant silence to linger. She shouted a quick jab, and the three others made their way out of the tent.

And then there were three. The next few moments were spent in tense silence as Olivia and I sized each other up. She reminded me of Leader Giovanni. Emotionless face, inscrutable eyes. She was shorter than me, yet she seemed so much larger.

"Kahuna nui of Akala Island," Hiroshi began, dropping to one knee. "We are honored to be in your presence."

I followed in suit, beholden by a strange aura. Many people could claim to wield power, but of course it took more than a claim to actually wield power. In other words, power has to be observed, not commanded. A person that said, "I have power" had no power. But a person that pointed to another and proclaimed, "He has power" had power.

Olivia had power. She commanded our attention without saying a word, as if it were natural to her. I followed Hiroshi's lead. "I am honored to be in your presence, Kahuna nui of Akala Island," I said, forcing a smile. "I would have said that in Alolan, but I'm afraid my knowledge of the language is limited."

Her face remained still, and my heart sank, fearing that my second joke of the meeting would fall flat. But, then her eyes softened and her lips curled upwards.

"Hiroshi-san," she bobbed her head in the ambassador's direction, "your acquaintance has an Alolan sense of humor." She motioned a hand towards me. "Stand up, you no longer need to kneel in my presence." She crossed the tent to stand beside Hiroshi and I. "What is your name?"

"Luke Tilin, ma'am."

"Mister Tilin," she said, "what is so urgent that you come to me on such short notice? I had to stop short a meeting with my captains."

I swallowed hard, clearing the lump caught in my throat. "I am conducting field studies in some mountains east of here. As I have heard, some of the Ancient Alolan ruins are under strict watch from the Alolan government. I seek your permission to conduct my research there."

'And what are you conducting research on?"

"The Mew."

For a brief moment, her widened, but it was almost imperceptible. Almost.

"The Ancient Alolans were known for worshipping many Pokemon Gods, The Mew included," she mused. "What makes you think that you will find anything of importance there? Much of the ruins have been abandoned for centuries, millennia even, and most are in poor shape."

"We have to try." I shrugged. "Much of the ruins I researched in the Orange and Sevii Islands were in disrepair, too, but I still found important information concerning The Mew."

"Mhm. And what is the thesis that you are trying to prove?"

"That the Mew is a construct of an ancient civilization that traversed its way across the Great Ocean, and finally made its final stop in Kanto."

"Ah, Kanto," Olivia said, her voice oozing with disdain. "It always ends with Kanto, doesn't it?"

"Yes I believe that the Ancient Alolans are the ancient civilization that worshipped the Mew, and they made their final stop in Kanto."

She glared icily at me. "That is not what I meant." She turned her focus towards the ambassador. "You've been awfully quiet, Hiroshi-san. What say you of his request?"

Hiroshi stammered for a second, apparently caught by surprise by Olivia's question. "His employer is a well-trusted member of the Indigo Plateau. I believe that a successful expedition could be beneficial to both the Kantonese and Alolan people."

That lump in my throat rose again, and I quashed it with as much force as I could muster. "So, will you allow my partner and I passage to the Ancient Alolan ruins in Akala?"

Olivia said nothing. Her silence spoke volumes more than any words could. It was oppressive, crushingly agonizing. Gods dammit woman, I needed an answer!

"No."

 _Wait, what?_

The oppressive silence from before became deafening. Olivia looked upon me with curiosity, while aghast terror overtook Hiroshi's face. It was then that I realized that my thought wasn't just I thought; I had spoken out loud. The horror present upon Hiroshi's face came upon me. I had just questioned The Kahuna. A normal response would be something along the lines of apologizing and admitting fault. But I had worked too Gods-damned hard for this expedition to be stonewalled by some Alolan bitch. I didn't care how high up the totem pole she was, I would not back down.

"What do you mean no?" I retorted.

"I need not give you a reason," she responded with a condescending sneer.

"But that's not right! Our study is scientific in nature, there is no ulterior –"

"Enough!"

The word was loud and deep, carrying enough power to stop a dragonite in its path. She continued:

"I've had enough of your rudeness. You think you can walk in – uninvited, mind you! – into my private quarters –"

"Uninvited? But Hiroshi-san told me that he had arranged a meeting between us!"

Olivia redirected her rage towards the ambassador, who had pressed himself as much as he could against the tent wall. "I was not made aware of such a meeting." She spat. "Kantonese scum, I see right through you. You think that because your region is rich, you have a right to bully your authority over others? Pshaw. Begone, and don't come back to my private quarters again. You have no such authority here."

I stood tall for a moment, but crumbled under the weight of Olivia's intense gaze. Without a doubt, I had lost the battle. Turning, I walked past Hiroshi and out the tent, face low to hide my shame. I knew not where I was walking, but as long as it was away from here. Anywhere but here.

* * *

The sun had just begun its slow descent beneath the sea. The rays glimmered gloriously in the fading light, emanating calmness in their wake. I was sitting at a roadside table outside the motel, watching the people scurry about in the fading light, sipping on some alcoholic something I picked up from a nearby stall. Huey, my poliwrath, stood beside me, flexing his slimy, rubbery hands. I glanced at the wicked scar that crisscrossed from his left eye and down his side.

I shivered, not from the sight of the injury, but from the memories it incurred. How long had it been? Fourteen years? But it felt like yesterday. The horror, watching helplessly as Koga's wicked poisons ravaged my pokemon…

No. I forced the memory down, hoping that through sheer will would the memory recede, never to return. I could not fall down that dark path, not again. I took another sip from my drink. Of course, I knew that sheer will wasn't always enough, and for those situations, there was alcohol. Thank the Gods. If nothing else, at least I'd get a nice buzz going.

The road was peaceful. Huey's presence seemed to scare away the unsavory types that preferred to stalk around at this time. But not all was peaceful in my mind. The previous events of the day ran on repeat like a movie reel.

 _I needed Olivia's cooperation._

I hissed in frustration.

 _I can't find the Mew without her help._

My hands clenched in rage.

 _The expedition is doomed._

I slammed my fists on the table, prompting a subtle glance from Huey. I was pissed, dammit. I extended an olive branch, and in response she set it on fire and put it out with her own piss. Bitch. I was thoroughly rebuked and the expedition was fucked worse than a Fuchsian hooker. The Gods knew I'd been rejected by a woman before, but this somehow felt worse. I just needed to be alone.

Right on cue, Mikey turned a corner around some building and made a combee-line toward my table. There was an annoyingly cheerful hop to his step, and I groaned: I was in no mood to deal with the newbie. Damned Blaine, I silently cursed the day he made me bring this kid along.

"How did it go with Olivia?" He asked, voice obnoxiously chirpy.

I dodged the question. "Did you get us that transport?"

"You could say that." His eyes drifted toward Huey. "Blaine told me that you had an aggron, is he somewhere 'round here?"

"Nah, Eddie's an ornery critter, too dangerous for a city," I said of my aggron.

"Damn, I was hoping I could see it. I always thought that species was so cool." He smiled. "So, how did it go with Olivia?"

I sighed, figuring it helped no one by hiding information from this kid. "Poorly. Very, very poorly."

"Like what? She wouldn't help us out?"

"Worse. We're barred from entering the ruins. If we step a foot near whatever imaginary boundary she marked for us, she'll send us packing back to Kanto."

Mikey's face visibly dropped. "So what does this mean?"

"It means," I began, swirling my drink in my hand, "that we're boned."

Silence. Mikey's face grew morose, which I was sure mirrored my own.

"I think I have a solution."

An eyebrow rose, piqued in curiosity, but I said nothing. I was not about to fall down the path of false hope again. Instead, I gestured with my hand: _continue_.

"Here." He unslung his sack from his shoulder and started pillaging its insides. "After I paid off the truck guys, I had lots of free time, y'know? So I went wandering around the city, and I found this building." He looked up with a stupidly large grin on his face.

"Get to the point, where are you going with this?"

Mikey laughed, and slammed a piece of parchment on the table. He unfolded it, revealing a floor plan of sorts. It was written in Alolan, modern, not ancient. And then it hit me. These floor plans were… Holy shit.

"These floor plans are for the ruins you wanted to explore, right?" Mikey asked as if reading my mind.

I looked upon the drawings in disbelief. "How did you get this?"

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "Complete luck. The building I came across turned out to be a governmental records building of some sort. And get this: it was totally empty! No security anywhere!"

Of course! All the security must have been with Olivia at the arena! A smile grew on my face, probably mirroring the goofiness of Mikey's. Perhaps I had underestimated this kid. The floor plans had everything: entrances for all levels, elevations, and cross-sections. It was everything we needed and more. Just like that, he saved the expedition for total disaster.

I slid the rest of my drink towards Mikey. "That's yours, you've earned it. Finish it, then let's go inside. We've got lots to discuss."

* * *

Dala – The currency used in the Alolan islands. It is made of a strong paper cut from the mountainous trees found throughout the island chain. On one side are the four Gods of the Alolan islands. On the other side are the four Alolan islands. Denominations are 50, 100, 250, and 1000. The current exchange rate is 1 Kantonese dollar = 150 Alolan dalas.

The Great Ocean – The expansive body of water that encompasses the New Age Japan, the Sevii Islands, Orange Islands, and Alolan islands. It is bordered to the west by the uninhabited Asian Continent and to the east by the Unnamed Continent. Many attempts have been made to chart the region, but none have been successful. The south-western area in particular is infamous for its dragonite breeding grounds, and any ship that ventures too close is bound to be destroyed.

* * *

Name: Aerodactyl (#142 Kanto; #284 Alola); The Fossil Pokemon, The Prehistoric Pokemon, Groudon's hell-bird (Hoennese nickname)

Characteristics: Rock/Flying-Type and Pseudo Dragon-Type; ~6'6"/~145 lbs.; bipedal/winged

No evolution

Diet: Carnivore, usually consists of geodudes and roggenrola, and occasionally graveler or boldore; the high iron content in these pokemon help aerodactyl develop its rocky hide

Range: Mountainous regions with mild to cold climates; Chimney Mountain Range in Hoenn, Battle Mountain Range in Orre, and the mountains across the Alolan Islands

Description: The aerodactyl has leathery, bat-like wings terminating in clawed fingers. Due to the aerodactyl having heavier bone density than that of bird pokemon, sustained flight is difficult, and most specimens have been noted to sustain an average of thirty-five minutes of flight. But, it is still a terror of the skies. Its arm muscles allow it to propel through the air faster than most bird pokemon. Its massive jaws can crush boulders. When aerodactyl grow old enough, it is capable of emitting dragon's breath.

Once thought to be extinct, the aerodactyl started turning up around the 700's A.P. It turns out that while most aerodactyl had died out as the Earth's climate started to warm, some still survived in areas well away from the mapped routes. Of course, they had been well known to the Alolan people, but Japan hadn't reestablished contact with Alola until the 850's AP.

The aerodactyl is the first documented pokemon that is considered to experience what is colloquially known as a mega evolution. While it is a far cry from an actual evolution, researchers clarify the mega evolution as a hormonal response to extreme stresses that a pokemon might experience. In the aerodactyl's case, mega evolved aerodactyl are larger in size and faster, and have noticeable rocky contusions spread throughout its body. Pokebiologists stay strong to the belief that very few species can experience a mega evolution, and even of those that can, very few pokemon will undergo one. Another common misconception is that mega evolutions can be reversed; as with normal evolutions, they cannot.

"Kikipua is more than my pokemon: he is my guardian, my savior. When I had reached rock bottom, when I thought all hope was lost, he appeared before me as an angel in the sky. My own 'aumakua. Kneel down and despair, for my warriors are strong, and my pokemon stronger."

\- Kahuna nui Olivia Kahale on her aerodactyl

* * *

A/N: Just as a reminder, I am no archaeologist, but I am almost positive that the profession's representation in this 'fic is nothing close to real life. But, of course, this being fiction and an embellishment of real life, you knew that. Right?


	3. Chapter 2: The Ruins of Life

**~Chapter Two~**

 **~The Ruins of Life~**

We left under the cover of darkness, when the moon shone at its highest point, and the stars danced across the sky. Our chariot – a carriage pulled by two mudbray – waited for us at the foothills of the mountains just outside of Heahea. It was not the truck that Mikey had promised, but I did not hold it against him as I was still giddy from his success of the previous evening.

Our hosts were a peculiar sort. There were four of them, all tanned from working long hours at the docks. Three of them couldn't speak a lick of common tongue, but the fourth, and the one who seemed to be the self-imposed leader of the group, could hold a conversation. He was taller and older than the others, sporting long hair on the sides and a bald spot on the top. He introduced himself as some impossibly long, multi-syllabled name. Not even the other three Alolans seemed to try pronouncing it, and often referred to him as 'Teekee'. It seemed fitting, I figured, since his face reminded me of the wooden totems that dotted the island. Teekee was a nice enough fellow, if seemingly aloof. He was not much for conversation, but he always obliged a question from Mikey or I with a toothy, ear-to-ear smile. I noticed that he always gave quick glances to either MIkey or I, and a few times, I even met his eyes in the act. He was smooth, quick to recover, as he always returned with a jovial, ear-to-ear smile.

Two of them seemed normal enough. One looked like he came straight from grade school, and the other looked about Teekee's age. They must have been father and son, as they were chattering about all throughout the ride, and I dubbed them as such. The third was different. He was quiet, never uttering a sound during the trip. A crescent scar descended from the middle of his forehead, through his left eye, and stopped at the top of his left cheekbone. I could not take my eyes off it, mostly because he did not take his eyes off me. At all times, I felt the weight of the man with the scar's stare. _Gods, what is he looking at?_ But, the Gods gave no answer.

Room was tight in the carriage. It had to fit five people, plus the baggage our hosts were carrying. Teekee sat up front, guiding the mudbray along the rocky, uphill terrain. Mikey sat upfront near Teekee, occasionally talking. That left me in the back with the Father and Son, who didn't seem to give a damn about my existence, and the man with the scar, who couldn't take his damn eyes off me. The path we took was dusty and flat from heavy use, as it was the main road between Heahea City and Paniola Town. "The Mountain Road," Teekee had called it his thick Alolan accent. "It travels northeast from Heahea to Panolia. There, it goes northwest to Brooklet Hills."

We arrived in Panolia Town just after sunrise. The town still sat in the shadows of the towering Wela Mountains, but the sounds of morning could be heard. Pokemon chirped and people stirred, and the smell of baked goods and fresh meat sat in the air like fog. Teekee guided the mudbray through the sleepy town and to the edge of a small agora before bringing them to a halt. He jumped off. "I'll be five minutes," he said, and scurried off to the far side of the market and disappeared behind some mud-and-straw buildings. The man with the scar eyed Teekee as he ran off, gave me one last look, and then walked in the opposite direction.

"Interesting folk you found," I said to Mikey, plopping myself beside him at the front of the carriage. "That being said, you did a good job."

Mikey's face brightened and flushed red. "Thank you. I didn't exactly have a pool of highly qualified candidates," he said. "It wasn't easy finding someone that could speak in the common tongue."

"Ahh, that doesn't matter one bit. Teekee seems to speak it well enough, anyhow."

"That's true."

"How'd you find him anyhow?" I asked.

"I didn't. He found me."

I cocked my head in confusion, and then turned to face Mikey. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well," Mikey cleared his throat, "Teekee sort of came in at the end. I met with the scary-looking dude first. I never caught his name, now that I think about it."

I looked back into the agora. The crowd had grown two-fold since we arrived, and more continued to enter. "You mean the man with the scar?"

"A-huh, that's the one. I found him first at the docks, and he helped me arrange all this. The carriage and the mudbray are his. He brought these two along as well." Mikey jerked his head towards the father and son, who were still talking about Gods knew what. "He actually speaks the common tongue even better than Teekee."

"Interesting. If I'd known any better, I would've assumed all he could do is stare at me like I had two heads." But my thoughts were no longer on the man with the scar. A dark notion brewed inside me. Teekee's entrance was disturbing, and I struggled to determine why it disturbed me. Looking back at the agora, it suddenly occurred to me how massive the crowd had grown, which had to be at least four times the size of when we arrived. Hundreds of eyes watching, hundred of ears listening. Any one of them could be focused on us at any moment, and what could we possibly do? And where did Teekee run off to, anyway? I glanced back at the father and son who were still talking without a care in the world. What if it was just a ruse?

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "I think it is time for a coffee break," I loudly declared. "Mikey, come walk with me."

We walked past the agora and into a side street, hopefully one that neither Teekee nor the man with the scar walked through. The foul stench of raw meat clung to the air heavily, and flies and gnats buzzed by ours faces like clouds. When I felt that we were a safe distance away from the crowd, I pulled Mikey close and whispered: "Explain what you meant when you said that Teekee 'found you'."

"Found me?" Mikey did not hide the confusion in his voice. "He kinda just walked up to me after I spoke with the man with the scar."

"And? What did he want?"

"He said he wanted to help me. He said he could help me." Mikey patted his backpack. "How do you think I got the map?"

A sinking feeling dropped into my stomach like a ball of lead. Through gritted teeth, I said: "You told me you came across a government registry building by luck. Was that a lie?"

"Well," Mikey smiled awkwardly, tussling his messy blonde hair. "Not entirely. Teekee picked the lock to the building and told me where to find it, which I did by myself!" He paused, then quickly added: "And the building _was_ empty. No one saw me enter or leave."

"No one except Teekee." I allowed the moment to linger. Slowly, I could see Mikey realize the implication. "And then you thought it was a smart idea to bring him along with us, so that he could literally follow our every move!" I practically yelled that last part, drawing curious stares from passersby. Lowering my voice, I hissed: "How much did he ask for? What was his price?"

"Nothing! He wanted nothing! He said he just wanted to help!" Mikey stammered. "Why, what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I'm a fucking dumbass for letting Blaine bully me into bringing someone as green as you along." I kicked a lone rock, sending shooting pains up my leg. " _Fuck!_ This is bad, this is very bad."

Mikey had grown silent, grief covering his face, which I almost felt good about. And then, his face changed as he shook his head. "No," he said, "I don't believe Teekee would sell us out. I was talking with him the whole way to Paniola. He's a good, honest man."

I whirled on him in half a second. "Let me explain to you a simple concept: no one does anything for free. One way or another, Teekee is earning his paycheck, and it is clearly not from us."

Silence. "So what do you think we should do?"

I thought hard for a moment. The earthy scent of coffee flowed from somewhere nearby. "We'll move ahead like everything is normal. And if Teekee tries to pull anything" - I held my aggron's pokeball up - "I'll kill him."

* * *

… _Mikey and I separate. He goes to the docks, I to the Kahuna. Then Teekee finds him, helps him get the map…_

The carriage rumbled along noisily on a road so rocky that it made The Mountain Road seem tame. The road we were on had no name because it was seldom used. It carved itself around the mountains, riding the ridgelines and darting through thorny foliage. The heat was oppressive; the trees seemed to trap the air and block the wind. I could it hear howling above the canopy, yet I could not feel a lick of it.

… _I meet with the Kahuna. He meets the man with the scar and the father and son. He pays them – what, 200 a piece? – And, then…_

On the surface, it seemed like nothing changed: the Father and Son were still chattering about, the man with the scar was still glancing at me every so often. Teekee sat up front guiding the mudbray, presumably smiling that annoying, insincere ear-to-ear smile. Mikey still sat by him at the front, but they no longer made small talk. Every now and then, Mikey would cast a worried glance at me, and then towards Teekee.

… _And then Teekee shows up, while I was meeting with Olivia. The registry is unmanned, unguarded. Teekee lets Mikey in. All while I'm with Olivia…_

I grumbled and drank the last of my coffee I got from Panolia. It had grown cold, so I did the sensible thing and tossed it off the carriage. It shattered upon a rock, or perhaps a tree. I didn't know, nor did I care. I felt so close to solving this mystery, yet I was missing something, something that could tie the knot together. To make matters worse, I did not know where to begin to find this missing thread, and it was already too late. It was midday, and the sun shone high and bright. We were three-quarters of the way to the ruins, and if a trap was laid for Mikey and I, we were assuredly well within its clutches. "Call it off," Mikey had pleaded to me back in Panolia. "Let's go back to Heahea. We can find our way to the ruins – we know where to go! We don't need Teekee to guide us anymore." But, I had quickly shot down Mikey's suggestion. Word would undoubtedly reach Kahuna Olivia's ears that I defied her orders; we did not have an opportunity to have a second chance. It was too late to turn back.

Absently, my hand caressed one of the pokeballs at my belt; I couldn't tell if it was Huey's or Eddie's. The metal was smooth at one point, but years of harsh travel had scored and gouged cuts deep into the coating. The red and white paint was chipped in many places. I felt strong gripping it in my hands. All I had to do was press the centerpiece, and kill Teekee. I could solve all my worries, fears, and problems. All I had to do was press the centerpiece…

A grunt broke me from my reverie. I looked up to see the man with the scar looking back at me. It was the most noise he had made all day. With a glance, his eyes flicked down to the pokeball I was gripping, then flicked upwards towards mine. And then, his mouth opened slightly. What little teeth he did have were all yellowed and rotten. He seemed to be nodding his head up and down.

The moment passed. The man with the scar looked back out the carriage. I let go of my pokeball and let out a breath I did no know I was holding. By the Gods, I prayed that slight nod meant what I though it meant. If it came to blows between Teekee and I, the man with the scar would assuredly side with me.

So I hoped.

The hardy mudbray maintained a steady pace uphill. We made decent time, and it was around noon when we stopped. Teekee was the first to jump off the carriage. Mikey was second, shortly followed by the Father and Son and the man with the scar. I took a moment to gather our surroundings; it was a small, flattened clearing of the forest. There was an opening in the canopy that allowed a meager amount of sunlight in. The ground was nothing but dirt and some dried grass.

"The Ruins of Life," Teekee said, pointing toward a path that crested a hill, "is that way."

I nodded and hopped off the carriage. "Map," I said, pointing to Mikey. He pulled it out from some pocket of his backpack, and unfolded it on the ground. We all gathered around.

"Here." Teekee pointed at a spot on the map. Behind him, the Son struggled on his tiptoes to see. "This is best place to enter."

I glanced towards where he pointed and frowned. "That's the main entrance."

"Yes." Teekee's smile was ear-to-ear. "No guards. Why complicate things?"

Mikey spoke up: "How do you know there are no guards?"

Teekee turned his head to face the boy, then turned to look at me. His face soured, and I shrugged and pointed to another spot on the map. "Let's try here."

"But, that's a window. We'll have to climb!"

I turned, smug smile on my face. "Exactly, no guards."

"If you say so," Teekee muttered. "But, these old legs of mine are no good at climbing no more. I must stay behind." He turned to the man with the scar. "Take him."

I shook my head. "I think a smaller number will work best," I said. "Mikey and I will go alone. We won't be too long." _Fat chance I leave you alone._

Mikey and I slipped down a third, narrow path that slipped between thorny trees and bushes. Much of the path remained the same way, what with sharp twigs and branches threatening to poke an eye out. It remained fairly level, albeit rocky, although the ground to the each side sloped uphill from right to left at a tremendous pace. The singing of birds and bugs seemed to grow louder the deeper we moved into the thicket. After a short time of walking, we stopped at the sight of trees standing in the middle of the narrow path. They were shorter, leaner things than the ones growing around us.

"It seems like a weird place for these trees to grow," Mikey said.

One of the trees waved unnaturally as he spoke. Quickly, I shushed him and ushered him back with my arm. My other hand grasped Huey's pokeball. "Those aren't trees, they're sudowoodo." I gestured to the ridge to our left. "Let's go up here."

The ridge made for harder travel. Boulders, some the size of cabins, dotted the mountainside. The thick, thorny bushes popped out from every corner, crevice, and whatnot. The majority of the time, we climbed on our hands and knees, as there was very little flat ground to walk on. Fortunately, the ground was not so steep that falling off was a threat, but that did not save us from a handful of scratches and bruises.

Another half hour came and went, and we arrived at another clearing, this one much larger than the previous. The canopies ended where we stood, and before us was a barren field, save for some boulders. At the end of the field was a large stone structure. Two large columns stood aside a massive stone door that at one point must have been a remarkable piece of masonry, but the front was so eroded that it was impossible to tell what had been carved on it. The columns must have stood about fifteen feet tall and were attached to a squat, square roof that receded into the mountainside, as did the rest of the structure. Before the door and columns stood the remains of what must have been a courtyard.

I stood with my arm outstretched facing the door. "Welcome, Mikey, to The Ruins of Life."

"The front entrance…" The boy stared in wonderment at the ancient building. "But I thought you wanted to avoid the front entrance?"

I flashed a smile. "Why would I? No guards, remember?" We crossed the open field, stepped over the crumbling courtyard, and made our way to the stone door. The doors were thick and heavy; a smarter choice would have been to have Huey or Eddie knock it down, but Mikey and I were able to push it open with much exertion. The interior was well lit, with open sunroofs allowing streams of light in. There was a carpet covering much of the floor of the foyer, but it was grayed and frayed and rotted, adding to the already dreary, colorless interior. It smelled of dust and mold. "Map and flashlight," I said, turning to Mikey.

"Do you know where to look?" The boy asked as he handed me the flashlight and unfolded the map on the carpet.

I shook my head. If the map was accurate, and I had no reason to believe it wasn't, than The Ruins of Life was only one story, which would be good news for us. I could find no discernible stairwells. "My guess is that what we're looking for is somewhere in this area." I circled a part of the map far away from the front entrance. "The Ruins of Life are named after the Alolan God, Lele, so if we start seeing sculptures, paintings, markings – you name it – if we start seeing any of that stuff of the God, it means we're getting close."

We made our way past the foyer and deeper into the ruins. The natural light faded quickly, forcing me to use the flashlight. Dust clung heavily in the air within the beam of light. We stopped by a wall with torches stapled into the side. I touched two of them; both were burnt to a crisp. "It has been a while since someone's been here," I noted.

Mikey meandered about the corridor seemingly aimlessly. "It all seems so old… do you know what it was used for?"

"Oh, the usual: healing, worship, that sort of stuff." I peered into a room. It was squat and bare. "I think I remember reading something about human and pokemon sacrifices, too."

It was eerily quiet inside. Usually, there were the occasional sounds of pokemon stirring, such as rattata. Not here. There was no life in The Ruins of Life. The interior remained bare, lacking ornamentation of any kind. Even the grisly rug we walked on was a single color, at least at one point. Now it was grey. The hall we traveled down had many peripheral rooms, which we occasionally glanced into. Nothing of importance was in them. "Do you know much about the Ancient Alolans?" Mikey asked.

"Only as much as I've read about them, which isn't much," I answered. "They were a seafaring people. Some of the books I've read said they arrived in Alola five hundred years ago, some say they've been here since The Cataclysm a thousand years ago. Either way, they used to live on these islands a long time ago, and for a long time, too.

"I know that they worshipped the Four Tapu. That's what The Ruins of Life are for; worship to the Tapu Lele. They also worshipped Gods of the sun and moon, but I don't know their names. I've read that there are also shrines to Unovan Gods, such as the Dragons of Duality, but I'm not sure where on the islands they are. And then, there's the Mew. From what I've read, they worshipped it as some sort of motherly God, not that different from how it is worshipped in Kanto."

Mikey nodded his head slowly, the shadows from the flashlight casting eerie shadows across his face. "But the Anicent Alolans are gone now, right?"

"Ancient Alolan culture is gone, that is for sure. Most of them packed up and left Alola centuries ago, although there are some on – Poni Island, I think? – that claim to be direct descendents of the Ancient Alolans. Most of the Alolans that live here now came from the Unnamed Continent about a century and a half ago."

"I'm not sure why, but hearing that is saddening." The hallway opened up into a larger room bare of any ornamentation. The three other doorways on each wall were little more than openings in the slabs of rock. As if on cue, Mikey removed the map again from his backpack and unfolded it onto the floor.

"Here we are." I pointed to a square room in the far reaches of the ruins. "We must be nearing the end, then." The hallways to our left and right led to peripheral rooms that seemed little more than dead ends. "We gotta go down this one, then." The opening opposite the one we came from led to another hallway that continued for some time.

The air grew stuffier, heavy with dust as we travelled down the new hallway. This one declined ever so slightly, giving the illusion that we were travelling towards the bowels of the mountain. _Although, perhaps we are._ The ceiling was claustrophobically low, so low that my hair kept brushing it as we walked. Mikey seemed to be squatting in a vain attempt to make himself appear smaller.

"Where do you think all the Ancient Alolans went?" Mikey asked after some time.

I shrugged. "All throughout the Great Ocean, probably. I've seen their markings in the Orange and Sevii Islands. I'm not sure if they made it to mainland Japan, though. Not everyone is meant to stay in one place, you know. Some people are born to travel the world."

The narrow hallway ended with a sudden and steep drop off. A ratty-looking rope hung from the ceiling and descended downward into the darkness. "Mudsdale hair," I muttered after closer inspection.

"How long do you think that thing has been there?" Mikey asked. His voice was squeaky, and a clear nervous edge could be heard.

"Longer than I care to think," I said, giving the rope a pull. The hook in the ceiling seemed sturdy, and the rope, despite its dusty appearance, looked like it was holding together. But, as Mikey had said, how long had it been here?

Steeling my nerves, I gripped the rope tightly and turned my body so that I faced the ledge. I lowered myself deeper into the darkness with each step against the floor-turned-wall. My flashlight dangled from where I stuck it between my belt and pants. "You can't be serious," Mikey had said, but I ignored him, focusing on the descent. My hands felt raw twisting and holding onto the rope for dear life. The wall, fortunately, was jagged and had many footholds. The climb down felt longer than it actually was. My feet touched the hard ground, and I let go of the rope with a breath of relief. Retrieving my flashlight, I looked back up. "Mikey, come down! It's not the far of a drop!"

Hoarse mutters and curses echoed down the tunnel. After a bit of time, Mikey appeared into view and dropped unceremoniously from the rope. His hair was mussed up and his eyes looked flustered. "I think I got a blister," He whined, poking at some dark spot on his hand.

Shaking my head, I continued down the path. The already narrow tunnel seemed to squeeze even tighter as we went on. Eventually, we were both relegated to squatting as we walked. Hunching hurt my back and knees, although Mikey seemed to be fine. _Gods, I must be growing old._

Time lost all meaning in this darkness. Other caves and ruins also slowed the sense of time, but in the Ruins of Life, time seemed to stop completely. _That might be why the call it The Ruins of Life: nothing ever lives, and nothing ever dies._ Whereas there was enough dust in previous rooms to choke a snorlax, there was very little in this hall. What little dust there was seemed to cling to the air like a spinarak to its web. It didn't even move as we walked by. After that, I noticed the cleanliness of the tiles and the lack of cobwebs along the walls. Either someone had travelled the tunnel earlier, or… _Or maybe time has stopped completely down here?_

The tunnel opened up into a large, long, rectangular room in an instance. I stretched, feeling the creaks and cracks in my knees. My back, sore as it was, seemed to thank me profusely for no longer having to bend over. After the moment's respite, I turned to look at the room before us. Again, the air seemed to be free of dust, and the floor tiles seemed perfectly pristine and shingled, as if Mikey and I were the first to lay foot on them. Amazingly, the room appeared to be well-lit despite there being no source of fire or natural light, as if some otherworldly essence held back the darkness. Unlike the other rooms in the ruins, this room seemed more ornate. Tapestries, colorful and clean, as if they were woven just the other day, hung from the walls to our right and left. There were many, perhaps ten or so at a glance, each depicting a different scene of nature or heroism. Across the hall stood four statues, one large and three smaller, and what appeared to be an altar.

"Map," I called out, and Mikey appeared by my side in a second, map out of his backpack and laid on the floor. I followed the long tunnel we travelled down all the way to the end of the map and… I frowned. "The room we're in doesn't seem to be on the map."

"What do you think that means?" Mikey asked.

I stood up and handed the map back to the kid. "Not sure, but it's not important enough to worry about. Take a look around, see if you find anything interesting."

Mikey immediately turned to the tapestries on our left. My focus was on the other end of the room. Each step was slow, palpable. I was afraid of moving too quickly, as if I were being judged for each step I took. I finally realized the higher power that felt so alien in this room; it was the statues, which were depictions of the four Tapus. As I moved closer, I noticed the intricate details of each one. Three stood in front of the altar, although they actually appeared to be kneeling. Koko, the Warrior God, kneeled to my right, his body painted black and his arms painted a golden yellow. Bulu, the God of Land, was black and orange, and Fini, the God of Water, was black and purple, kneeled to my left. Each one had blood red rubies for eyes, and they all gazed towards the floor.

I stepped past the statues and toward the altar. It stood up to my waist and was overlaid with fine white satin, which was nearly untarnished save for the perfectly circular red blotch in its center. A trail of the same color seemed to flow from the blotch's diameter and drip off the altar. Hesitantly, I reached out to touch the blotch, noting its warmth and stickiness. _It's almost as if it was used earlier today_.

Finally, I looked at the presence that could not be ignored. Tapu Lele, the God of Life, towered over me, its ruby eyes holding a frightening intensity that paradoxically made it impossible neither return its gaze nor look away. Its body was painted a glowing pink, with red patterned dots spaced intermittently across its shell. Its hands were outstretched, holding a chalice at an angle so that the lower rim touched the altar. I took a whiff inside the chalice, noting the smoky odor of ash, and reached in to touch it. Almost immediately, my hand shot back out as I stifled a scream, and I swore that I saw Lele's ruby eyes glimmer when I touched the ash. It was still hot, like the ash of a previous night's campfire. Cursing silently to myself, I rubbed my singed hand. There were no burns that I could see.

"Luke! I think I found something!"

I made a move towards Mikey, but stopped when my hand touched the satin covering the sides of the altar. Curious, I lifted up the fabric and discovered a shelf underneath. It was dark despite the unnatural light. I blindly felt around until my hand came across something. Heart beating in anticipation, I pulled the thing out from underneath the satin. _Now, what are you?_ It was a heavy tome, bound by leather and thick with paper. As with everything else in the room, it seemed perfectly preserved. I flipped through the pages, but to my dismay, they were written in the Ancient Alolan script.

"Luke! I found something really important!"

"I'll be there in a second!" I placed the tome in my backpack, making a mental note to follow up with it later. I turned to move towards Mikey, but not without noticing the ruby eyes of Lele, which seemed to follow my every movement.

Mikey was observing one of the tapestries, his face flush with excitement. "I found it!" His voice squeaked like a toddler. "Look! I found the Mew!"

The tapestry was brightly colored, depicting scenery of a mountain and a rushing river. The river was white with foam, the brown and green of trees elegantly woven up against the river's banks. The mountain also seemed to be covered in trees, but given that it was supposed to be farther in the distance, it had significantly less detail than the river. "It's pretty, yes, but I don't see a Mew," I said, perusing the tapestry again.

"You're not looking in the right spot." Mikey pointed at a spot on the tapestry. "Left side, in the trees along the river."

I squinted my eyes, following Mikey's directions. The room was lit, but not so light that I could see the minute details in the tapestry. "I still don't…" But my voice got caught in my throat. Suddenly, I could see it, clear as day. There it stood – floated, rather – within the trees. Dark pink fur, pointed cat-like ears, large round eyes, and a long tail that curved around the tree… yes, it was undoubtedly the Mew. "Mikey, get the camera," I said with bated breath.

Within seconds, Mikey had the camera in his hands and was taking pictures. Snap, click. Snap, click. Snap, click. In that moment, he was no longer a kid but a man on a mission. "Do you think the scenery depicts somewhere in Alola?" He asked.

"Mountains, trees, and water? Probably." The other tapestries were just as elegantly woven as the one with the Mew. One depicted a scene of sailors battling what looked to be a gyarados in open water. Another one was not of a scene but of a great beast, one that looked like an animal from before the Cataclysm. _A lion… yes, I think that's what they were called._

As I looked over the tapestries, my eyes slowly wandered back toward the Lele statue. The ruby eyes, captivating as they were, seemed to follow me throughout the room.

"Pretty freaky, huh?"

Mikey appeared by my side, a kid again, motioning toward the Lele statue. It was almost as if it was peering into my soul. I felt naked standing before it. "There's always some freaky statues in these old ruins," I answered, shrugging.

And then the ground shook. _Bang, rumble, bang, rumble_. In unison, we turned towards the tunnel. The noise came from it, echoing loudly in the confined corridor. A few seconds passed in silence, followed by another shake and the accompanying noise.

 _Teekee, you son of a bitch._ It had to be him. Deep in my gut, I knew he had to be behind it.I turned to Mikey. "I think we've overstayed our welcome."

Mikey said nothing, and we raced down the tunnel. I took one look back towards the unyielding ruby eyes of the Lele statue before it disappeared into darkness. The shakes and rumbles grew louder as ran down the tunnel and climbed up the rope. _The sounds don't appear to be coming from inside the ruins._ The thought came to me in the heat of the moment. _They must be coming from out side, which means…_ Eddie's pokeball was in my hand in an instant. I steeled my mind, focusing on what was ahead, but the fear crept behind ever so slightly, waiting for its turn to strike.

We were at the foyer in what felt like minutes. The door opened to the sunlight beyond, and the shakes and rumbles were replaced with the sound of roars and the flapping of wings. Eddie was released from his pokeball. He was an aggron, large and heavy, stubborn and prideful. Scars of past battles scrapped the surface of his steel hide, white pot marks on an otherwise brilliant silver. His beady black eyes gave no expression, but the way his breathe quickened and his head tilted toward the roaring outside gave away his intentions.

Eddie was ready to fight.

I smiled, giving Eddie a once over. He seemed to mildly acknowledge my presence before focusing back toward the open doorway, his hissing quickly transforming into a low grumble. It sounded like rocks sliding down a mountain. _I truly was gifted with a fighter._

Nervous breathing was to my left. "Mikey," I said calmly, although I felt anything but calm. The kid did not seem to hear me. "Mikey!" I repeated, louder and more aggressive, clearly spooking the kid when he jumped in place. _He's terrified_ , I thought, grimacing. _And I don't blame him one bit._ "Release your pokemon, Mikey."

"Right, right," he muttered, rummaging his pack. He found his pokeball and clicked the centerpiece, hands shaking the entire time. A primeape appeared. It was leaner and meeker than most I'd seen. Thin fur lined its body, making crisscrossed scars just barely visible.

 _Gods, it looks like the fight has been beaten out of it!_ A common saying was that the pokemon took after its trainer, and Mikey's primeape was Exhibit A. Both cowered at the noise outside. "Listen here," I said, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. I waited until we locked eyes before continuing. "Once we pass through that door " -I pointed in its direction - "I need you to be prepared for anything. Follow my lead."

"But I-I-I," Mikey paused, gathering himself. "I've never been in a fight before. I mean – I've been in trainer battles but…"

"There's no difference," I said. _That's a lie. You're a Gods-damned liar, Luke Tilin._ "Focus on three things only: yourself, your pokemon, and what's before you." I looked to my right; Eddie seemed to shake in anticipation. _Fight hard, buddy. You're our only chance._ "On my count, we charge through that door. Three." I held up three fingers: pointer, middle, and ring.

"Two." I dropped my ring finger. Mikey fidgeted nervously to my left.

"One." I dropped my middle finger. My vision seemed to gloss around the edges. My hearing dimmed, drowning out all other noises save my own voice and heartbeat.

"Go." I pointed towards the door. Eddie unleashed the loudest pants-pissing roar I had ever heard. I swore that if the windows had glass, he would have shattered each and every one of them. A cloud of dust rose in Eddie's wake. I turned to see Mikey either lost in bewilderment or too frightened to move. "Go! What are you doing? Go!" I shouted, shoving the kid forward.

We ran outside, the sounds of battle already underway. Eddie had already engaged his victim, a strange-looking graveler that sparked with electricity. The rock-type attempted to grapple the aggron, but it was beyond useless. One swipe from a steel-clad claw ripped off its arm. Another swipe, and the graveler fell to the side, its face gashed open. Three foes robed in purple-painted body armor fired their rifles, which pinged uselessly against Eddie. Their pokemon moved in to surround the aggron. A weepinbell flung its vines around Eddie's right arm, holding him down while a drowzee and a large purple crab moved in to strike.

 _Don't worry about Eddie_ , I reminded myself. _Let him draw the bulk of them._ Mikey and his primeape stood to my left. Two trainers accompanied by a pokemon each came charging toward us. They were about fifty yards away. "Take the one with the mankey," I said to Mikey.

The kid nodded nervously, barked an order to his primeape, and went to meet his foe. Huey's pokeball was in my hand and my arm was outstretched in an instant. I pressed the centerpiece, and the poliwrath appeared in a blast of red energy. My opponent slowed his charge. His scaled armor clanged with each step, chiming like a song. His helm was painted purple and black, mirroring the head of Lele, and masked his entire face save his grey-stubble chin. He carried a heavy great axe, gripping it with both hands, and behind him flowed a short cape that stemmed from his right shoulder. His pokemon, an archeops, did not slow its charge. It screeched through the air, redirecting its path towards Huey with amazing alacrity.

" _Duck!_ " It was all I could say before the archeops attacked. Huey, having just oriented himself after leaving the pokeball, slid down in the nick of time, the raptor missing by just a feather. The First Bird pokemon banked hard to its right, making an impossible turn. Huey barely had time to recover before having to dodge again, this time a juke to his left.

But the archeops continued its assault of hard turns and full on tackles, moving in figure-eight shapes around Huey. Its trainer, the scale-clad knight, paced around the battle, gripping his great axe. The axe was huge, nearly three-quarters the length of the man, and was chiseled to a dangerous point on both ends. He watched the pokemon battle with earnest.

 _He's planning something_ , I thought. _So I need to strike first._ Huey had found his rhythm, dodging right and left of the archeops's attacks, but was awaiting my command to attack. _Patience, and then strike_. The raptor's attack was cyclical; it would swoop in for a strike, and then bank towards the opposite direction it came from. _I just have to wait for the right moment…_

" _NOW!"_ I screamed. The archeops came from the right, and as if a trigger were pulled, Huey leaned towards the attack, a balled fist following in pursuit. With all his strength, the poliwrath leaned back and released a bone-crushing uppercut. But, the archeops seemed to sense the attack before it struck, and awkwardly flapped away from it a second before it landed.

The knight followed the battle on the balls of his feet, bouncing to and fro. He whistled a long, shrill noise. The raptor swung around for another strike. Huey pivoted and swung another punch just as hard as before. The archeops dove out of the way more cleanly, and the knight followed behind, axe raised high and flying.

 _WATCH OUT!_ I wanted to yell, but all that left my lips were gargled spittle. The punch's momentum dragged Huey just outside of the axe's arch, which crashed into the ground with a steely ring. Nimbly, the knight pivoted, dragging his axe along the ground with a screech and slamming the flat side of the head across Huey's face. The poliwrath was dazed when the archeops struck, colliding into him with talons splayed.

I found myself charging, screaming at the top of my lungs. Huey lay dazed on the ground, the knight moving forward with his axe lifted in the air. Its bottom was chiseled to a fine point. I slammed into the knight's shoulder guard before he could perform a downward thrust, ending my pokemon's life. I pathetically bounced off, and the knight whirled around and pushed me to the ground. But, it was enough; Huey recovered just barely. He grabbed the knight's ankle and pulled up, flipping his world upside down.

At that moment, Eddie returned to my side. The trainers he fought scattered across the summit, their pokemon beaten and broke. The knight, seeing the massive aggron by my side, got to his feet and retreated to the far side of the summit.

And then everything came to a screeching halt.

The aerodactyl was a monstrous thing, even more so close up. Its wingspan had to be about twenty feet. Serrated teeth lined the gap between its massive jaws. Jagged rocks seemed to grow everywhere on the beast. Atop sat Kahuna Olivia, clad in scaled armor. Her eyes were pure poison. "About time you showed up!" I called out, trying my hardest not to show the paralyzing fear I felt. _Gods, it's so big!_ "Why were you hiding? Too afraid to show your face?" Mikey was by my side again. He and his primeape panted heavily.

"Kantonese scum!" She hissed, ignoring my taunt. It was hard to hear over the flapping of wings. "Do all of you talk so much yet say so little?"

"We can't fight this thing." Mikey's voice was soft and squeaky. He trembled beside me. "Let's make for the forest and _go!_ "

"And what? Have them hunt us down like feral pokemon?" Eddie was breathing hard beside me, his eyes locked with the aerodactyl's.

"You cannot escape my justice!" Kahuna Olivia shouted, as if reading our thoughts. "You disobeyed my order, and now you must face your punishment! Stand and fight!"

"Once I'm done with you, I'll find your lackey son of a bitch Teekee and show him what it means to disobey _me!_ " I returned Huey to his pokeball; he had no use in this fight. I turned to Mikey. "Take care of that guy over there." I pointed to the knight. He was twirling his axe in the air, and his archeops flapped by his side. "Fight him as best you can. Leave the Kahuna to me."

The kid's face was ashen. "Nero can't take on that bird!" He said, referring to his primeape.

"You're right, he can't," I said, my face grim. "But you'll do it anyway, or else we're both dead men." Wings flapped, and the earth seemed to move beneath us as the aerodactyl took to the sky. Eddie answered with a roar like twisting steel. "Go!" I pushed Mikey towards the knight. "Do what you need to do!"

Mikey gave me a sour look before rushing off to his next battle. _Good luck, kid._ I turned to mine. "Take a defensive position, Eddie." The aerodactyl banked towards the summit. Its mouth opened like the gates to the Distortion World, and out came a jet of dragon's breath. Eddie buckled from the attack; dragon's breath did not burn hot enough to melt steel. _Still though, the speed at which the flames struck… that had to hurt._

Each strike was more of the same. The flames struck at high speed, and Eddie's head drooped a little more, his movements a little slower from each hit. _The flames can't hurt him, but the force of it can._ The aerodactyl swooped again through the air. _And once it's done with Eddie, it'll come right to me_. Air superiority was what made dragon's such as aerodactyl so deadly. All they had to do was stay in their safe zones and spam immolating beams of dragon's breath. But, mistakes could still be made. Eddie had stamina, and, for a time, we could afford to be patient. _Patience… yes. Let the Kahuna make her mistake_.

Such an opportunity came on the next strike. Perhaps Olivia thought it was tactical or maybe it was sheer arrogance. Rather than keep distance, the aerodactyl swooped lower and rammed Eddie with a rocky head. The attack caught us off guard, and the aggron was knocked toward the ground. _But this is our chance. The fool was too impatient._ Eddie and I locked eyes, and in that moment, we understood each other. Gingerly, he raised himself to his hind feet, staring down the incoming attack. The aerodactyl was diving in low for another physical strike. Eddie turned to face me, and I gave him a nod. With a roar, the aggron raised a metal claw skyward in an overhead strike.

The _crack_ of metal grinding rock, the _crunch_ of crushed bones, and the _screech_ of pain and terror filled the air. Everything, everyone stopped and looked as the aerodactyl crashed, throwing Olivia unceremoniously on the ground. The knight, previously in battle with Mikey, dropped to his knees. Mikey, already on his knees and hovering over an unmoving form, looked mouth wide open. Eddie stood triumphantly, claw covered in blood.

He charged. The aerodactyl, dazed as it was, saw the incoming attack, and weakly opened its jaws to defend itself. But, it was too little, too late. First, Eddie tackled it with his horned head. Then, he struck it with metal claws, each swipe drawing blood. It was a slaughter; the aerocactyl was punch-drunk and helpless in the face of such attacks. Kahuna Olivia looked on, a hand near her pokeballs, yet she never was able to find one. A giddy smile grew on my face. _Yes, look upon_ your _punishment._ Left, right, left, right, swiped Eddie's claws. He unrelenting in his strikes. _Like shooting magikarp in a barrel._

Eddie disappeared in a flash of red energy, but I still kept his pokeball gripped in my hand. Kahuna Olivia was on her knees droplets of blood rolling down her pretty face, but her eyes were glued to her aerodactyle. The dragon's face was nearly unrecognizable, all gashed and bloodied as it was. It was alive, barely, breathing heavy, hoarse gasps. The knight was on his knees, hands clasped together as if in prayer.

Olivia turned to face me. Her face was ashen, the arrogance from before had melted away. "This is my justice," I said, pointing to her broken pokemon. I motioned to Mikey, and we made for the forest.

* * *

The afternoon sun was high and bright in the sky, but held none of its comforts. Bloodlust still consumed me, and my rage was as bright and hot as the sun. _That son of a bitch better not think I've forgotten about him._ My stride was purposeful. Eddie's pokeball was gripped tightly in my hand. _Teekee, I'm coming for you next._

The forest opened up into a familiar canopy. It was empty now, save for an abandoned carriage. Most of the cargo boxes were cracked empty, their interiors emptied. Not even the mudbray remained behind. The dirt around it was mussed by footsteps, yet there was no sign of a battle. _There must have been an argument, then_. I prowled around the carriage.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mikey's voice was soft, yet hard. His usually lively blonde hair was now limp and lifeless. He pointed towards an open path. "Heahea is that way."

"We're not going to Heahea," I answered, focusing back on the carriage. The footsteps led into a thicket of woods. "I need to take care of Teekee first."

"No." I turned to get a better look at the kid. He was broken, thoroughly broken. His face was morose. Scratches lined both cheeks, and his eyes held the thousand-yard stare.

"Mikey," I said as slowly, calmly as I could. "Teekee sold us out. We can't let him get away with it."

The kid shook his head, yet his eyes never moved. He seemed to caress the pokeball in his hands. "No. Please. No more fighting, no more blood. I just want to go home."

He was near tears; I could see it in his red eyes. His cheeks were white as ghosts. "What the hell happened –"

Noises came from the woods. Sticks cracked and leaves crumpled. Both our heads turned in the direction they came from. Shadows and branches moved, and out of the woods came a familiar face. _It's the Son!_ A fire reignited in my belly, and I turned to face Mikey. He seemed to read my thoughts, and his whole body shrunk in reluctant acceptance. We followed the Son through the woods. The steel of Eddie's pokeball grew hot and sticky. My heart beat faster with every step. I could almost taste the vengeance. The thicket gave way, and an argument could be heard. The Father stood off to the side, aloof. The man with the scar was talking heatedly with Teekee, heads shaking and arms flailing about. _Teekee…_ The release button was comfortable to touch, like an old friend. _You're about to learn true pain_. Teekee turned to the noise. There was no ear-to-ear smile on his face. I raised my arm, the scratches on Eddie's pokeball glittering in the light.

The sound of steel on steel scraped through the air, and a cold, sharp edge was pressed against the base of my neck. I growled. "Drop the sword, you son of a bitch." My finger still held on to the release button of Eddie's pokeball.

"Drop the pokeball, and perhaps we can talk." Teekee's face was stone.

"We can talk right now, before I kill you. Let's start with your treachery, hmm?"

Teekee let out a short laugh. It was high-pitched and cheerful. "Treachery? You flash a pokeball in _my_ face, but I'm the treacherous one? Please, I need a good laugh after today, tell my of my treachery."

 _He stabs me in the back, and now the fucker mocks me? Figures._ "In this pokeball holds the pokemon that crushed your bitch's aerodactyl. One press of the button, and you'll be in more pain than you'll ever imagine."

"My bitch? Oh, Mr. Tilin, you truly have no idea. You let anger cloud your thoughts, and you know longer see friend from foe. Besides, you forget." He pressed his blade harder against my neck. I could feel droplets warm blood run down. "I still have a sword at your throat."

"Your sword can't hurt my aggron."

"My sword can hurt _you._ "

"My partner has a pokemon, too." I leaned my head towards Mikey. He still caressed his primeape's pokeball in his hands.

But Mikey was ashen and paralyzed. He dropped the pokeball on the ground. "No more fighting, no more blood," He said. His voice was barely more than a whisper.

 _But… No!_ Shaken, I turned to the only other person I could barely trust: the man with the scar. _Please, please come through for me._ I looked hard at his mutilated face, praying to any God that would hear me. _Tackle Teekee, give him a light tap. Do something!_ But, no Gods listened, and the man with the scar turned his back to me. I dropped my head in defeat.

"It seems your friend has no fight left in him," Teekee said. "Drop your pokeballs."

And so I did. I dropped Eddie's from my hand, and knocked Huey's off my belt. Teekee kicked both balls to him, and went to pick them up, removing his blade from my neck. He took one look at Mikey's pokeball and tossed it back on the ground.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance." I grumbled.

"Perhaps you should have." Teekee pushed Mikey and I towards the front of the pack, beckoning us to walk forward. "Only a fool makes foolish decisions."

I ignored the slight. The area in front was deeply wooded, and no discernible path could be seen. I frowned. "Is this the way to Heahea?"

"We're not going to Heahea." I turned to look at Teekee. His smile was ear-to-ear. "We're going to Brooklet Hills."

* * *

Common Tongue – An old language, traced from before The Cataclysm. Alongside Japanese, it is the most commonly spoken language in Japan and Orre. The upper-class in Alola learn to speak it as well.

* * *

Name: Mudbray (#749 National; #132 Alola); The Donkey Pokemon, pack mule

Characteristics: Ground-Type; ~3'3"/~242 lbs.; four-legged

Evolutions: Evolves into mudsdale when it comes of age (usually ~10 years)

Diet: Herbivore; It feeds on grasses and leafy plants

Range: Mountainous regions with mild climates; Wela Mountains Ranges on Akala

Description: The mudbray is hardy, even at young ages. And it has to be in order to survive the rocky terrain of the Alolan Islands. As such, it makes for an adept climber, and has little trouble traversing mountains, no matter the steepness. It makes for an excellent pack mule, and can travel day and night with little food and drink, and even less sleep.

"I'm tellin' yah, ain't nuthin' better than a mudbray. Rain or shine, that sons'a bitch will climb that ther' mountain, no bitchin' or cryin'. Like i'twas born to climb. Mayhaps that's why the good Gods graced our Earth with such a damned fine pokemon."


End file.
